


Eggshells

by VivianDarkbloom05



Category: TharnType the Series (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Fluff, Humor, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Short & Sweet, Table Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:15:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24822955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VivianDarkbloom05/pseuds/VivianDarkbloom05
Summary: Was this quasi relationship too much for fragile Type? Type, who was hot and cold at the flick of a switch.“Fuck me on a table, for all I care. Just get on with it and fuck me, goddamit.”***Wherein Tharn is unsure of how to treat Type and is walking on eggshells, understandably. Written pre-relationship.
Relationships: Tharn Thara Kirigun/Type Thiwat Phawattakun
Comments: 4
Kudos: 156





	Eggshells

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to get inside Type's head before his relationship with Tharn started properly. I hope you enjoy this little ficlet :)

_You’re gay, aren’t you? Then you’re no different._

This barb stings Tharn more than the other insults Type typically hurls at him thoughtlessly. Tharn frowns, confused. Type reads the unspoken question written on Tharn’s face. _Why now?_

Why now, when they had established something of a routine, something that might even resemble the beginning of something else? Tharn had been so good. Tharn had been a gentle, selfless lover; never taking without giving something back. Tharn frowns, directed more towards himself, meditating on his possible missteps towards Type.

Yes, Type was still homophobic. And ironically, sleeping with him too. But Type had adapted a curious defense mechanism, one that differentiated Tharn from _everybody else who shared his sexual orientation_. Tharn knew it would take a lot of time for Type’s emotional wounds to heal, but he was more than willing to wait. Type was worth it. 

So he gives it another try, gives thinking another spin. He fails. Cautiously, he asks.

_Type, did I do something wrong?_

Type deliberately wants to get a rise out of Tharn. Type has to do this. He has to prove, to himself mostly, that everyone like Tharn was selfish. He needed to know that Tharn was no different. Tharn was going to hurt Type, like the others before him had.

But this was unexpectedly hurting Type more than it was hurting Tharn. It did more than prick at Type’s conscience to see Tharn blaming himself for something he did not do. Type wants to look into Tharn’s eyes, to remind himself who he had been talking to, finding them downcast instead. Type inhales, chanting to himself, this was Tharn. _His Tharn_. Type wants to take it back. Wants to say, _Don’t worry, Tharn. You’re perfect. You did nothing wrong. I’m sorry._

But because he’s Type, and he’s always short on words when it comes to Tharn, he kisses him instead.

Tharn reciprocates. Kissing Type is always an experience. His kisses are often so much like him: wild, impatient, insatiable. True to form, Type grabs Tharn to kiss him again, and before Type distracts him again with another round of kissing, Tharn tosses him over his shoulder like he weighs less than a sack of rice. Type protests in his usual fashion, which means that his words don’t match what his body is doing. 

Tharn sets him down on the bed. When Type is panting and Tharn is at least two fingers deep inside him, Tharn hesitates. And checks for any sign of distress in Type’s expression.

_Type, is this okay?_

_**This**_ , meaning everything. Was this quasi relationship too much for fragile Type? Type, who was hot and cold at the flick of a switch. Type, guilty because he decided to pin his unresolved trauma on his doting room mate and a little terrified that Tharn might treat him like bone china from now on, settles for one of his crude one liners.

Type snorts. 

“Fuck me on a table, for all I care. Just get on with it and fuck me, goddamit.”

Tharn’s fingers stop what they were doing. He picks up Type again, bridal style. Type feels boneless and far too gone now to care. He had to admit, he did expect this from Tharn. For all his saintly patience, Tharn was actually no pushover. He just really liked giving Type what he wanted, exactly how he wanted it. So now they were going to fuck, and not on the bed. Type feels something collide with his side, making him wince. Type soon forgets the throbbing pain though because, like usual, his world narrows down to only Tharn and what Tharn is making him feel at the moment. 

Just a while ago, all Type could see was red. And it wasn’t because Type was enraged over Tharn’s existence. Red signaled a lot of things: love, danger, blood. Type had a very good idea of how he really felt. He knew deep down that this front of his (terrorizing his gay room mate) was a futile masquerade for something else.

Type’s mask cracks in times like this, showing his true colors. His back finally meets the hard wooden surface of their shared dining table, which makes Type finally come to his senses again.

“I didn’t mean it literally, you jerk.”

Tharn laughs softly into Type’s neck, the bad blood between them forgotten. Type turns his head to the side so he can smile, the novelty of the situation simultaneously funny and erotic. Type is spread on the table quite literally like dessert, strong legs splayed obscenely for Tharn.   
The angle would have been awkward to Type if Tharn wasn’t about to pound into him any second now. Speaking of which, why was Tharn still not inside him? 

Tharn stares at Type, moonstruck, unbelieving of his good luck. 

“What, aren’t you hungry?”

Type breaks the silence, mock affront painting his features. Tharn, being the devil himself, licks his lips. He finally digs into the main course of the night.

****

Type’s back hurts. Of course his ass hurts too. Great, he was going to have to limp like an old man to class tomorrow morning. Type shuts his eyes, lying in bed, where his back is met with a soft mattress (fucking finally). He contemplates skipping, if only to put Techno’s smug, knowing smirk out of his mind.

The single bed Tharn and Type share creaks when Tharn returns, and Type is jolted awake when something freezing is pressed to his hip. Type hisses softly, cracking one eye open to see Tharn applying an ice pack warily to the forming bruise. 

It wasn’t even that bad. If Tharn thought this was bad, he should see the ones Type usually gets after a particularly brutal match under the unforgiving sun. 

Tharn is careful, practically reverent in his ministrations. 

_I’m not a woman, you know._

When Tharn ignores him, Type tries a different approach.

“How is that different from the ones you gave me last night?”

Type asks, raising a perfectly arched brow, referring to the love bites that litter his chest. He was a little grateful to Tharn that his neck was left unscathed, actually. Being discreet was becoming more and more of a necessity; Type can practically feel Techno’s eyes burning a hole right through him every time he had his back turned during football practice. 

“Those were to remind you who you belong to.”  
A short exhale, followed by Tharn pressing his lips to the livid bruise that was forming. _Softly, oh so softly._

Type does not flinch. 

Later, Tharn kisses him full on the lips slowly, almost chastely; compared to their kisses beforehand anyway. They were always hungry for each other, Type even more so, no matter how much he denies it. Tharn kisses Type like he’s afraid to break him.

Type kisses Tharn back like he’s sorry: for his violent outbursts, his constant rebuke of Tharn’s sexuality, his inability to give Tharn what they both want.

Both of them accept each other’s silent apology.

**Author's Note:**

> I feel bad for adding "table sex" in the tags when I hardly even wrote it in depth. If it's any consolation, I'll edit this work and add it in soon. I just need to be in the right headspace to write smexy stuff again. 
> 
> P.S. I realize their dining table in the dorm room is way too small; this is fanfiction anways so please just imagine that they have a big ol' mahogany table XD
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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